


the toy dragon

by annadavidson



Series: Band of Misfits [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Second Breakfast Club, band of misfits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 05:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11799519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annadavidson/pseuds/annadavidson
Summary: His ears were ringing.Summary: Valas' past and present collide.





	the toy dragon

His ears were ringing. Valas turned on Dominic, annoyed by the young man’s proud grin. His friend’s wavy dark hair had been put up in a bun – the fact that the bard had taken the time to tie his hair up during a fight was irritating in itself. Meiros was already at Valas’ side, searching the drow for injuries to heal.

“Next time you blast a dragon off of me, how about you warn me to cover my ears?!” from the way that Dominic laughed and Meiros winced, Valas guessed he was yelling. It took Meiros a few minutes to get his ears to stop ringing.

In the meantime, Dominic was looking down at the carcass of a dragon and still grinning widely. “I killed that.”

His twin sister, Eve, rolled her eyes. “We  _helped.”_

“But I landed the killing blow!” he countered, causing his sister to roll her eyes again. “I can’t wait to go home and tell my daughter her daddy’s a dragon slayer!”

“Baby dragon.”

All party members looked to Hai, who was the next to get Meiros’ attention, though he often fought from a distance and thus avoided most harm. The sorcerer’s familiar, a raven named Obsidian, sat for once quietly on his shoulder.

Dominic’s grin was starting to fade. “What?”

“You killed a baby dragon,” Hai stated matter-of-factly, nodding toward the carcass.

Dominic didn’t look all that proud anymore. “Well – well you guys  _helped_  kill it!”

Eve put on her best sympathetic sister act and clapped Dominic on the shoulder. “But brother,  _you_ landed the  _killing blow.”_

“You’re the great dragon slayer!” Elizira chimed in, exchanging a grin with Zintra, who shook her head.

Valas thought Dominic looked like he would cry.

“I didn’t want to kill a baby!”

“It  _did_  attack me,” Valas pointed out. He felt Hai sling an arm around his shoulders – the sorcerer’s other arm rested across Meiros’ shoulders. It was an affectionate attempt to keep both men near him, though it also prevented Meiros from walking over and healing the other members of their party.

“Well we couldn’t have  _that,”_  Elizira teased and chuckled at the unimpressed look Valas shot her.

Zintra picked up her shield, slinging it onto her back, signaling that it was time for their group to continue farther into the cave. After all, they had a serial murderer to hunt. As she passed Dominic, she patted him on his arm, “Don’t worry. We’ll tell your daughter you slayed an evil  _adult_  dragon.”

* * *

No, no,  _no._  This couldn’t have been happening. Not again.  _Not again._

Valas’ hands shook, covered in blood – in her blood, in his blood.

Just a few feet away, her body lay lifeless. She was looking in his direction, arm outstretched as if to beg him to stop, lips parted in a silent plead to spare her brother. Her eyes were wide with shock and tears stained her cheeks, marking her with the heartache, the pain of betrayal. But her eyes were also dim, lifeless. The midsection of the dress the alchemist wore, once a beautiful shade of green, was darkened and soaked with crimson. He could see where the blade had pierced her from behind all the way through to stick out the other end. Perhaps if the blade had been left in, she would have had more time. More time to struggle to live. More time to helplessly watch her brother die.

Just a few feet away, Eve stared lifelessly at him, lips parted as if to ask why he knelt over her brother’s dying body.

Underneath him, Dominic was dying. He was dying fast, the blade having pierced his heart from the front. The blade was still in him. That blade –  _Valas’_  blade.

Valas’ hands shook as he removed the blade. Leaving it in wouldn’t have made a difference. The others were too far away.  _Meiros_  was too far away. He wouldn’t get there in time to heal Dominic. None of the others even knew what was happening. None of them knew of the danger. None of them knew about the death and the dying.

He frantically took his cloak off and bunched it together, pressing it against the wound. Dominic whimpered against the pain. Valas felt his heart tear. Tears were in the corners of Dominic’s eyes – some escaped. Valas didn’t even register that he, himself, was crying too. He didn’t register that he was practically sobbing.

_Not again._

For a split second, he didn’t see Dominic underneath him. He saw an older man – a drow with short silver hair, not quite white. He saw his hands around the hilt of a dagger. The drow reached up, touching his cheek with bloody fingers. He felt his mother’s presence behind him, looming over him. He saw the disgust on his father’s face beneath him.

_“I should have killed you. You should be dead.”_

And suddenly it wasn’t his father but Dominic underneath him. Dominic, staring up at him with sad eyes, but still with that caring look of a young father, of a friend, watching someone break. Dominic reached up, his arm shaking with the effort, his fingers and hand bloody from trying to hold his own wound and stop the bleeding he knew in his heart wouldn’t stop.

He weakly cupped his hand against Valas’ tearstained cheek. Valas’ eyes snapped from the wound to him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Dominic managed to get out, his voice quiet, weak. Each word was a struggle, but he looked determined not to die and leave them unsaid. “It’s not… your fault.”

Valas became aware of his own sobbing.  _“I’m so sorry.”_

Dominic tried to shake his head but didn’t have the strength to.  _“Now_  you’re fond of me.” He put on his best smile but it wavered. He looked afraid of dying. He looked like a man desperate to live but with no cards left in the deck, no more moves to make.

Valas wanted to tell him he thought of the bard as one of his best friends but the words caught in his throat. He choked out a sob, gently grabbing Dominic’s hand and holding it against his cheek.

 _“Valas,”_  Dominic stressed, “Promise me… Promise me you’ll see my daughter.”

Valas started to shake his head.

“See my little Evanora,” he insisted, “She’ll need her – she’ll need her Uncle Val to show her…” He coughed up blood but refused to stop talking. “Show her how to survive… How to survive this cruel world. Tell her – tell her about her Auntie Eve. Tell her about the hero she was, smart and brave…” His words became slower, his eyes dimmer. “Tell her… Tell her that her daddy was a dragon slayer…”

Though he wanted to refuse, Valas slowly nodded. “I’ll tell her about the hero he was too.”

That made Dominic smile. “I always wanted to be a hero…”

With that, Dominic took his last breath.

* * *

It had been roughly one year. For roughly a year, he had tried not to think about Dominic or Eve, about any of the others he’d left behind. He’d chosen to run and had never stopped. He had sometimes taken odd jobs – assassinations usually – to earn money so he could feed himself and Spite – the spoiled spider had quite the appetite. But he was used to those jobs requiring only himself. It had been roughly one year since he’d worked in a party.

Now he found himself surrounded by strangers – Rihiri, a tiefling druid; Zaegar, a half-orc monk; Bilbo, a halfling rogue; and Sefhana, a half-elf ranger who he was fairly certain was the most annoying half-elf he’d ever met. Of course he pretended not to remember their names – he didn’t plan on sticking with them for long. They just needed to slay this beast, this… Well he remembered  _their_  names, not the beast’s. It was progress.

Still, those memories lingered in his mind. When battle began, his first instinct was to turn to Elizira and give her the mischievous grin that she knew was him asking her to lay down cover fire so he could get close to the enemy as safely as possible.

But Elizira wasn’t there. Instead when he turned he met Sefhana’s gaze. He’d just met her not too long ago, but he assumed it was safe to say they weren’t going to get along.

Where he expected to see Zintra charging into battle, sword drawn, he saw Zaegar, reigning his fists down rather than a blade. Where he expected to see Dominic and Eve concocting some crazy plan that might get everyone killed but hey, at least they’d look good doing it, he saw Rihiri throw Bilbo and the halfling land ungracefully with his face against the ground. Where he expected to see Obsidian swooping down and pecking at enemies, he saw a large bear that had accompanied Rihiri.

And where he expected to see his lovers taking up the rear – Meiros with his crossbow, Hai with his staff and magic – he saw nothing but an empty space. Trees stood where he thought his lovers should have been.

He decided he didn’t like it here with these people early on. It was too familiar yet foreign, working with a group yet a group he had never known before. He’d learned to work in sync with his previous party, with his… friends.

He thought back to that party, to those faces he’d learned to affectionately call his friends – a couple of them more than friends. He thought back to first meeting Zintra, to hunting down that monster. He thought back to being by Zintra’s side as she recruited each of the others. He thought back to the nights they’d spent around a campfire, Dominic creating lyrics to songs on the spot that made no sense but made everyone laugh.

He thought back to Eve, staring lifelessly, silently pleading at him to spare her brother. He thought back to Dominic, to making a promise he couldn’t keep.

He decided that he wouldn’t allow himself to enjoy it here with these people. He wouldn’t allow himself to get close, to stay. He would leave them behind as soon as he collected his money. He didn’t need any more friends. He didn’t need anyone caring about him. He didn’t need the blood of those he cared about on his hands anymore.

He looked around at the group of strangers he didn’t want to get to know. He thought that if he wasn’t in their lives, then certainly their lives would be longer.

* * *

Valas stared down at the toy in his hand – a small, wooden dragon. It was clearly a child’s toy, and he had no clue why it was on a corpse unless… He stood up and turned from the corpse, not wanting to find out if it was of a child or an adult. He stared at the little dragon, stirring a memory he’d tried hard to push down.

He saw Dominic using one of his daggers to carve a twig into a crude tiny little spear. He carved it too thin, of course, and it just fell apart the moment he tried to stab a piece of meat with it. Eve playfully rolled her eyes.

“You should leave the woodcarving to the, well, the woodcarvers,” she teased.

He saw himself snatch the dagger back and investigate the blade. “Keep taking my daggers and you’re going to dull the blades.”

Dominic shrugged. “If I want to be a woodcarver, I need to practice.”

Zintra looked up from her meal and cocked an eyebrow. “You want to be a woodcarver?”

Dominic grinned cheekily. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Eve playfully shoved him. “If you were a woodcarver, Evanora would have more toys than she does.”

“She has plenty of toys!” Dominic protested, “Her Auntie Eve spoils her.”

This time it was Eve’s turn to grin. “Well I have to be her favorite relative.”

Dominic barked out laughter at that.

“You should make her a toy dragon,” Elizira chimed in, “After all her daddy’s a dragon slayer.”

Dominic opened his mouth to agree when Eve added, “And it’d be small enough to be a  _baby_  dragon.” Dominic shot her a sour look and the party erupted in laughter around the small campfire they had built.

And suddenly Valas was staring at a small, wooden toy. A little dragon in his hands. And he was back in the cave with a different party, a different set of faces. The only familiar thing was Spite, perched on his shoulder, staring at him with her multitude of eyes. For the first time in roughly a year, he slipped the toy into his bag with one thought on his mind.

_Evanora would like this._

* * *

_You’ve got to be kidding me,_  Valas wanted to say, staring defiantly at the half-orc in front of him. Was it truly the only way to get what they needed? Couldn’t they just kill them all and go about their lives? Did he really need to give  _this_  up?

Of course he did. He mentally reminded himself that this was life and life was never kind, at least not for long. Anything kind would surely be taken away from him – kind gestures, kind moments, kind people. It would all become memories soaked in blood. It always had.

He thought he saw Sefhana look like she was going to try to swipe it from him. Which would have been ridiculous in his opinion, trying sleight of hand out on a rogue. But then Zaegar had his attention again – he told himself the monk could easily get his attention just because he was shirtless. He refused to think any farther into that.

The next words out of the drow’s mouth was a price. It was a ridiculous price that anyone in their right mind wouldn’t pay. It was a silly item that wasn’t even worth half that amount. At first he didn’t think he’d heard correctly when Zaegar agreed. But as he saw the coin, he realized he’d somehow walked right into a deal that should have greatly pleased him. He’d never reluctantly taken money before. But as he put on his best cocky grin and traded the small item for the gold, he felt just that – reluctance.

He watched as the wooden toy, the little dragon was given away so they could continue on and finish their quest. He told himself it was for the best. He didn’t ever plan on seeing the Crawfords again. He hadn’t even been there for Dominic and Eve’s funerals, having ran away as they had been traveling to take the bodies home.

He told himself he didn’t deserve to take such a gift to little Evanora, who would be eleven by now. He didn’t deserve to hand her a toy with the same hands that had been soaked in her father and aunt’s blood. He didn’t deserve to see her smiling face again, to be graced with her presence again. He didn’t deserve to have such innocence in his life.

He told himself it was for the best.

* * *

He pretended that celebrations bored him, but rather they made him uncomfortable. He didn’t think he deserved to be celebrated, and he guessed the townsfolk might have felt odd, having a drow in the party they were cheering on. Or perhaps it was such a small town that they didn’t care. He found it hard to keep track of  _every_  place that despised his race.

He watched the others have fun, mostly sticking to the shadows or eating when he felt hungry. Receiving gifts from the townsfolk wasn’t something he was used to or expected. All he’d wanted was to get paid so he could leave, but free food was free food.

He rummaged through the gifts, not quite caring about them and halfheartedly putting them away in his bag. He froze, though, when he noticed a small, wooden toy. It lifted the little dragon up and inspected it. He wasn’t sure if it was new or the same one. But either way, somehow he now held a toy dragon in his hands. He glanced around, trying to figure out who was responsible for it – it couldn’t have been a coincidence. But to his knowledge, no one was giddily watching him, waiting for him to see the toy. To his knowledge, no one cared.

He glanced to Spite – he guessed that if spiders could shrug, she would have – before carefully placing the toy in his bag.

He wondered who he would owe for this. It wasn’t a coincidence, he was sure of it. And nothing in life came free. Someone knew about the toy, knew what it had meant to him though he hadn’t spoken it. Someone had gone out of their way to get either the same one or a new one and give it to him. He thought someone clearly wanted something from him, but what? He didn’t know, and he wasn’t looking forward to finding out.

* * *

He knew this city. He realized that the instant his stomach dropped and he felt sick. He’d been traveling around with Rihiri, Zaegar, Sefhana, and Bilbo for a little over a year now, and he’d been praying to the goddess that they wouldn’t journey to  _this_  city. Perhaps this was Lolth’s way of punishing him for not being devout.

It was a big city, but he doubted luck was on his side. He pretended not to know where shops or inns were. He pretended not to know the city, but he was quieter than usual. This city brought back memories that should have put a smile on his face but instead tore at his heart. This city made him look at his hands and see red.

He stood outside a vendor, one he recognized and resisted the urge to groan. He remembered almost punching this vendor for trying to swindle him out of his money while stating not so kind words about drow. The only thing that had kept him from decking the man had been Hai, gently but firmly grasping his arm and pulling him away. He remembered also hearing the man scream something about his hair being on fire.

His hair had clearly grown back – he looked as irritating as ever. He eyed Valas, but kept most of his attention on Rihiri and Zaegar, though technically Bilbo was the one talking to him. The man’s eyes were nervous glued to the tiefling and half-orc, who looked intimidating from his angle. It probably didn’t make the man feel comforted to see the party was trailed by a bear and a wolf.

Valas, however, hadn’t realized he’d neglected to put his hood up. Every now and then the man glanced at him as if he thought he might have recognized him before his attention snapped back to the druid and monk. Valas was tempted to tell Bilbo to steal whatever he needed while the merchant was preoccupied.

 _“Uncle Val!”_  he heard a familiar shriek and felt something – or rather some _one_  – collide with him and refuse to let go. He looked down to find a twelve year old girl with wavy red hair tied up in pigtails. Though he hadn’t seen her in a few years and hadn’t expected her to recognize him, he knew instantly who she was.

_Evanora._

She released him from her hug and his eyes darted around, searching the crowd for the face of her mother, Amelia. He didn’t see her which both relieved and concerned him. He didn’t think he could face her – the last time he’d seen her, she’d told him and Zintra to bring her husband back safely. However he also didn’t think Evanora should be out without her mother.

He knelt down in front of the little girl, not quite sure what to say. She looked up at his companions and gave a small wave with a big grin before her attention was back on him. Her grin wavered.

“Do you remember me?” her voice cracked, setting off alarms in his head. She was pure, innocent, a child. She didn’t deserve to be sad.

“Yes – Yes, of course I do!” he said quickly, watching with relief as a smile returned to her face. He swallowed down his emotions and tried to put on a smile of his own, cupping her face in his hands. “Look at how big you’ve grown! Why you’re practically an adult!”

She giggled at that. “Mommy lets me go grocery shopping by myself!”

He doubted that was true. Amelia was a protective mother, even though the city was fairly safe and most in it knew and were fond of the Crawford family. “Does she now? You must be so brave to walk these streets alone!”

She grinned and bounced up and down, her pigtails bouncing with her. “I am! I am!” It was clear she had her father’s energy. When she stopped bouncing, she looked at him as if searching for something. “Where have you been?”

He felt like she’d stabbed him with one of his own daggers.  _If only,_  he thought.

“I uh…” he tried to think of something, “I’ve um – I’ve been on a secret mission.”

She gasped.  _“A secret mission?!”_

 _“Shhh,_  Evanora,” he gently hushed her, “It’s a  _secret.”_

She made a big  _O_  with her mouth and quickly nodded her head.

“I’m actually still on it,” he explained. He didn’t like lying to her, but he thought lying was one of the things he did best.

“Why are you here?” she asked curiously.

He thought of that small toy and swung his backpack off his shoulder. “I’ve got a gift for you.” He reached in and gently took the dragon toy out, handing it to her.

She gasped and took it, grinning from ear to ear.

He smiled, genuinely and affectionately. “Now when you look at this,” he spoke up to get her attention again, “I want you to remember you daddy, okay?”

“My daddy?”

He nodded. “You see, your daddy and Auntie Eve, they were brave,  _brave_  heroes. The bravest this world will ever know! And your daddy – Why, he was a dragon slayer!”

Her eyes widened.  _“He was?”_

Valas found himself mirroring her grin. “He was! I was attacked one time by this evil  _evil_  dragon, and your daddy saved my life!”

“Can I tell Mommy that story?” she asked eagerly.

He thought that it was only because she was young and distracted by her excitement that she didn’t ask him to come with her. “Of course!”

She threw her arms around him, and he found himself hugging her back and not quite wanting to let go. He didn’t want to leave her in the past again. But he had to let go. If he stayed, she would only get hurt. And she would hate him if she ever found out the truth. He stood up and watched her bounce off to find her mother.

He felt eyes on him and, unsurprisingly, found the others had been watching. He didn’t blame them. In their shoes, he probably would have watched too.

“She’s the daughter of someone I knew,” he explained without needing to be asked.

“A friend?” Rihiri asked. During their nights spent together, he had opened up to her a couple of times, though he’d kept majority of the details to himself.

“I don’t have friends,” he stated firmly, though he was fairly certain the look Sefhana gave him translated to  _bullshit._  “Not… anymore.” He didn’t think he’d ever admitted that he’d once had friends before. At least not to anyone but Rihiri. He thought the silence that followed was awkward and uncomfortable. “You can ask what happened.” His own voice sounded demanding even to him, as if he wanted them to accuse him of what they didn’t know had happened.

Zaegar smiled softly at him – Valas thought he smiled too much, and on that note, flexed too much too, not that he would ever tell the monk to stop. He liked watching him smile and flex. “You’ll tell us when you’re ready.”

Valas pulled his gaze away. He wanted them to accuse him.  _Murderer. Monster. Traitor._  He wanted those words screamed at him, spoken like the truth they were.

“He died,” he stated it, his voice cold yet shaking, the sorrow he’d never allowed himself to grieve threatening to shatter the ice he’d put between himself and his heart. “He died with his sister. They were murdered.”

“I’m sorry,” Bilbo spoke up before the others could, but it was clear that even Sefhana sympathized.

Valas found he couldn’t stop talking, speaking words he didn’t want to. “When we first met, I… I was on a quest to avenge them. I’ve sworn to kill the man who killed them.” Before any of them could offer to hunt someone down, he added, “It’s something that  _I_  must do. And eventually I’ll get the chance to. Until then, it doesn’t matter.”

“If we run into him, tell us and we can help,” Rihiri promised, and Valas looked away.

He didn’t have the heart to tell them they had already met that man.

“Thank you,” he said instead, “But I’ll kill him… When I’m strong enough, he’ll die.”

He didn’t have the heart to tell Rihiri that this was linked to the bandages she’d seen around his arms and wrists. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that this was linked to the scars and cuts she’d seen on his arms, wrists, waist, and thighs. He didn’t have the heart to tell any of them that he was talking about himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Like/reblog on Tumblr [here](http://magicrobins.tumblr.com/post/164166899400/the-toy-dragon).
> 
> Rihiri Valtari's owner: [Tumblr](http://jellyfishlovesloki.tumblr.com/) & [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/shelbyfrisk/).  
> Zaegar Steelheart's owner: [Tumblr](http://nutellanewt.tumblr.com/) & [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/sarahloftis779/).  
> Sefhana Brenlynn's owner: [Tumblr](http://bxtgrl.tumblr.com/), [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/naturegirl202/) & [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NatureGirl202/).  
> Bilbo Swaggin's owner: [Tumblr](http://theoneandonlyfloozyjesus.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Set in a world created by our lovely DM: [Tumblr](https://iodine-kisses.tumblr.com/) & [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/IodineEm/).


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